#I'm SO fucking sick of being pushed aside by everyone

[takerfoxx]

I'm so fucking confused what did the Rock do

It's a very long and complicated tale, but the short version, the Rock recently joined the board of directors for TKO (WWE's parent company) and SEEMINGLY (as we don't know the full behind the scenes story just yet) used his clout to push himself into the Wrestlemania main event, challenging his sort of cousin Roman Reigns for the WWE Universal Championship and pushing aside Cody Rhodes, the guy that was supposed to be Roman's challenger, and thereby sabotaging a two-year story that everyone was invested in right when it was about to see it's conclusion. And people are pissed about it.

That's the short version. Here is the loooooonnnnnggggg version.

WWE has been plagued by a number of issues over the years (not the least being that it's been run by an actual rapist for the last four decades), but the two relevant issues is a tendency to rely on past their prime stars of yesterday at the expense of building new stars for today, and when they do want to build a new star, they have a bad habit of shoving their chosen golden boy down everyone's throat to everyone else's detriment in a nakedly inauthentic manner until the fans get sick of them (see: Ultimate Warrior, John Cena, and, most recently, Roman Reigns, who will become important later). Needless to say, they've had a lot of trouble getting the crowd behind what is known as the White Meat Babyface, or primary good guy.

The Rock started off as the latter, being introduced as Rocky Maivia, who was a wholesome good boy who was just so happy to be here. People saw through it and booed the fuck out of him. In rare case of the WWE actually listening and responding, they turned Rocky heel and let him vent his frustrations at the fans, which let everyone know that, holy shit, this guy is actually insanely charismatic and probably the best trash talker in the business! Thus, the Rock was born.

However, while he certainly earned his accolades during his heyday, his returns since haven't been so universally admired (see previous note about the WWE pushing the stars of yesterday). One instance about ten years ago involves him main eventing Wrestlemania against John Cena over CM Punk, who was the reigning WWE Champion at the time, and was quite annoyed. Okay, the Rock vs. John Cena could be excused on account of being that much of a dream match, but then they had CM Punk end his year long title run to the Rock so he and Cena could main event again, this time with the title on the line. This was one of the many issues that reportedly led to CM Punk walking out a few months later.

Now, let's move away from the Rock for a bit and talk about Roman Reigns, who was another example of the WWE ramming their chosen golden boy down everyone's throat. Like the Rock, he is part of the venerated Anoa'i Family, who are practically wrestling royalty with how many superstars they've produced (though they're not actually related by blood, but that doesn't matter, as those who marry or are adopted in are still considered full members of the clan).

Roman began as part of the massively popular trio known as the Shield, alongside Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose. And during their two year run, the Shield were kind of incredibly awesome. Three badasses closer than brothers just wrecking a path of destruction against all those who stood in their way, a perfect combination of violence and genuine comradery...right until Seth Rollins betrayed the group and they all became single stars.

Now, despite the WWE having high hopes for all three, Roman was clearly the anointed heir, despite being the least experienced of the three. Unfortunately, they went about this by making him essentially a John Cena clone. Smelling another corporate babyface about to be shoved down their throats, the fans turned on him and turned on him HARD, making him the most loathed face in wrestling for years despite always being treated by the company as a beloved hero. Finally, the decision was made to turn Roman Reigns heel, unleashing his dark side and turning him into the Tribal Chief, a sadistic and manipulative monster who's held an iron grip on the title for literally years. Needless to say, it has been a massive improvement, and he is now quite awesome (though people are sick of how long he's been champion, but that's neither here nor there).

Anyway, heel Roman has been champion for basically forever at this point, and it's been a question of who will eventually be the one to dethrone him, because whoever it is automatically becomes the biggest star in the business. And given what an accomplishment that is, there really can be no place it can happen other than the main event of Wrestlemania.

Enter Cody Rhodes.

Like Roman and the Rock, Cody also comes from a prestigious wrestling family. Cody is the son of the late, great Dusty Rhodes, the American Dream. And this pedigree has weighed heavily on him, both in and out of storyline.

Now, unlike his plain-looking and tubby father, Cody looks like he was grown in a lab to become the perfect WWE wrestler. Movie star looks, an absolutely ripped body, and physical charisma for days. Despite this, his first WWE run didn't go how he wanted. While he saw a fair amount of success, he never seemed to break out of the midcard and was eventually saddled with the loathed Stardust gimmick, which he absolutely hated, and after realizing that things weren't going to change, he decided to bet on himself and leave the WWE to prove everyone wrong.

This ended up working beyond anyone's wildest dreams.

To say that Cody was successful post WWE would be a gross understatement. Rebranding himself as the American Nightmare, Cody became the opposite of everything his father was, dressing in snappy suits and carrying himself in an arrogant, sadistic manner. He worked for a number of places, from TNA to Ring of Honor to New Japan, and saw massive success, winning multiple titles across multiple promotions and building himself as a force to be reckoned with. He was also the impetus for the historically significant All In event, in which a number of wrestlers from a number of different promotions banded together to put on the first non-WWE show to have over ten thousand people in attendance in over twenty years, which eventually led to the creation of AEW, which Cody was an intrinsic part of as well. Needless to say, Cody was cooking.

Unfortunately, his own way of doing things didn't mesh well with the AEW audience, and they turned on him pretty hard after a year or two. Eventually he left to return to the WWE, and a lot of people questioned if he was making a mistake, given how he was treated the last time.

However, his gamble had paid off. His worth had been proved, and now WWE was all in (pun intended) on Cody Rhodes. In contrast to the volatile AEW crowd, the WWE fans welcomed the prodigal son back with open arms. And surprising all cynics (including myself), this love continued strong even after the novelty of Cody Rhodes back wore off, probably bolstered by how carefully his storylines were plotted, some truly killer performances in the ring, and the respect garner by him being an absolutely fucking champ and wrestling Seth Rollins in a Hell in a Cell match despite having a horribly torn pec.

Finally, the WWE had a White Meat babyface that the fans universally accepted and wanted to see more of, and they were going to capitalize. He won the Royal Rumble to rapturous applause and entered in a program with Roman Reigns to challenge him for his title at Wrestlemania. And unlike other challengers, he actually seemed like a credible threat. Much was made about how his father had also challenged for the same title but could never capture it, so he wanted to do what his father couldn't and finish the story. People were behind Cody all the way, and the time seemed right for Roman to finally fall and a new top star to be crowned.

And then Cody lost. Roman cheated, and Cody lost.

Needless to say, people were pissed. However, others said that maybe this was leading to a rematch at the following year's Wrestlemania, making his eventual victory all the sweeter. Certainly, WWE still seemed behind Cody, as he spent the next year in several high profile feuds that kept him looking strong, including going over Brock Lesnar of all people. And again, the fans remained behind him, when in past cases they would have turned on the guy by now. Believe me, this hadn't happened in a very long time.

But not all was well. There were rumbles that the Rock might be queuing up for a return one of these days, possibly to finally face Roman Reigns in another dream match to settle who the true Tribal Chief of the Anoa's family. People had been wanting that match for years, but for it to happen now, upsetting Cody's chance to finally finish his story? Well, that was the worst possible time. However, these rumors seemed to be nothing more than that. Just rumors.

And then CM Punk came back.

Now, Punk is a whole can of worms all in himself, and could easily fill a full post of his own. But the important thing is that he and Cody are very much dark reflections of each other, especially in how both were screwed over by WWE during their first runs, left under dark circumstances, and returned to the fans' adoration. And they both coveted that Wrestlemania main event.

In fact, during an awesome promo battle between the two, Punk specifically pointed out that he intended to do to Cody what the Rock had done to him ten years ago: be that bigger star who came back after not being around for a long time and take that Wrestlemania main event away. And sure enough, during the Royal Rumble, the final two in the ring were CM Punk and Cody Rhodes.

And Cody won. The first man in years to win back to back Rumbles. He singled out Roman Reigns as his target, cementing their Wrestlemania rematch. As for Punk, he had a main event of his own, as he was apparently scheduled to face Seth Rollins for the World Heavyweight Title at night 1 of Wrestlemania. It seemed that both of the prodigal sons were getting their wish!

And then CM Punk got hurt really bad and had to pull out of Wrestlemania.

Well, that sucks, but it shouldn't upset plans too badly. Seth could just wrestle someone else, and Cody's two year story could proceed like everyone wanted.

Well, we all know what happened next.

Yup. It happened. The Rock, likely with the backing of his new position on the TKO's board, had pushed himself into Cody's spot, while Cody (as it appears) will be replacing Punk to take on Seth Rollins instead. A two year story, flushed down the drain. Punk's words had turned out to be prophetic.

And while the fans were cheering in that video, once the buzz had worn off and people realized what had happened, that's when things got nasty. Over the last few days, people have turned on the Rock and turned on him HARD. Rocky sucks chants fill WWE events, #wewantcody trends for days, videos of the Rock get booed, and (unfortunately) even members of his family have gotten caught in the crossfire. People are NOT happy about this direction. Cody is their guy, and right when his story was going to be completed, right when Roman was going to be dethroned by the guy that everyone wanted to see beat him, this happens.

Plus, since then reports have been swirling that this decision was made by the TKO board, not WWE, with the Rock specifically pushing for it to "Save Wrestlemania." Which hasn't exactly warmed people to the idea.

Which is really funny, because the last time Roman Reigns and the Rock shared a ring together, it was in the middle of Roman's disastrous babyface run where the fans hated him, especially in Philadelphia, a city noted for its rebellious fans, and the WWE sent the Rock out to help Roman in hopes of changing their minds.

It didn't work.

And where is Wrestlemania this year? Oh right, Philadelphia.

This is going to be...interesting, to say the least.

#wwe #cody rhodes #the rock #roman reigns #cm punk #wrestlemania

[hyqerfixation]

WAITER SAT AT THE TABLE

-art by ringorenji88 on twitter.

OKKK YAKUZA PILLARS WE LOVE..

Kny boys Drabble NOT FINISHED..

---------------------------------------------

"oh shit for real? The pillars are here!? " the pianist asked in shock

"yeah u can see them in the vip seating on the other side of the casino"

"oh for fuck sakes, another fight is probably gonna happen some time soon. "

"you bet"

After hearing the two colleagues gossip Y/n placed her old hairbrush back into her bag.

“What the fuck are pillars?” Y/n thought.

The strip club was definitely something,a popular angle wing in the outskirts of the city of japan

But how could she describe this club?

Utter shit

Female hookers only had a little bit to get ready for their customers, and the bartenders had even less time to change into their uniforms and set the stools down before the casino gets ready

Too add on, the club didn't have a wonderful dressing room for performers to get "all dolled up," as many owners put it, so she dressed up in the ladies employees restroom as long with her female colleagues.

____________________________________________

"HELP Y/N I CANT ZIP MY DRESS UP AND I HAVE TO GO OUT ANY MINUTE!"

"ume calm down jesus fucking crist, Turn around ill do the zip."

Y/N zipped up the performers outfit, which was way more flashier then her skutty uniform.

"daki ur late ur supposed to be on stage letter A right now!"

Another performer exclaimed, rushing daki out of the females room.

"OKAY OKAY I'M COMING ALRIGHT" daki turned around to y/n who was also supposed to be out on her shift right now.

"LET'S MEET UP LATER MM K?"

Y/N sighed lightly while giving a suttle smile

"sure" y/n replied on her way to follow daki to the exit.

Y/n exited the bathroom, leaving her aftershow clothes in on the bathroom sink as long as her bag, and began shifting her fingerless gloves.

“I should’ve pretended to sick today smh” she thought.

"hey y/n! What's up w being late all the time. We could've had a smoke break together."

"i would of been here five minutes ago but I was helping your sister "

Y/ns workmate, also known to be gyutaro rolled his eyes as he gave y/n her note pad and biro pen.

"whatever dude, but come tell me when your on your next break so we can go smoke mm k?"gyutaro said

Y/N waved him goodbye as she slowly walked away.

"we could've talked longer if u came on the right fucking time."

"mm k!" y/n mimicked, taking notes how the siblings act like each other.

Y/N walked out of the bar counter and pushed a stool aside her to continue on to taking orders.

Yet while she looked around she noticed all her work mates avoided the back left,also known as the more "mightier side". Was there someone big there? But if it was someone famous there wouldn't everyone be offering to take their order?

It didn't make sense.

Y/N walked towards to back without a ponder. There wasn't anyone to take the people's orders since the waiters scurried to take their orders, as if they were avoiding a certain table.

'whatever this is; i need that bag, so I guess I'm just going to have to deal with whatever hits me.' y/n thought.

High heels clanked on the ground while y/n search for a table to assist, only for-

"y/n! Y/n!"

She turned around.

"sasumaru? What's up with you?"

Sasumaru was one of y/ns closet friends at the casino, besides the siblings. She wanted to be a volley ball player but failed at everything ever since she was put under house arrest.

"I'm begging you to do that vip table! All of us are to scared to do it!"

"Well why, its not like they are gonna try to kill u for getting their order wrong."

Sasumaru laughed sarcastically

"they tried to kill yahaba because he asked if they wanted ice in their drink!" sasumaru exclaimed, rocking y/n back and fourth by the collar.

"whatever, I'll do it" y/n dead panned

"Are u so sure after hearing what I just told u!" sasumaru panicked even more

"yes it's fine I'll just do what they say, no questions, no ice."

Sasumaru stopped and starred at y/n

"Now will you let me go?" y/n asked.

"AAAAA UR SO COOL Y/N!!! SO BRAVE TOO, JUST LIKE ME"

Y/N pulled sasumaru off her and continued to walk to the vip room

'if u were brave like me, u would be walking to the vip lounge' y/n giggled to her self.

"hey babe what's ur number?"

"look at the fat in her back!"

"I would smack that"

Y/N grumbled to her self about these comments, much to her dismay shes pretty much used to the cat calling here. The manager doesn't really give a shit about the treatment his female employees get here.

'tch, whatever. Fucking saddos'

Y/N walked to the vip table, no in closer inspection she saw a group of men.

Rich men.

Rich and powerful men.

How could y/n tell they were powerful? Doesn't the silent tables of men around them tell you enough? What about the employees refusing to serve any where over here? Is that enough?.

"what could I get for you guys" y/n asked carefully, remembering what happend to yahaba.

"finally someone flashy to help us order!" one of the men said. His hair silver white with magenta eyes that popped. Jewellery coated his body with a expensive tuxedo.

"can I please just have some water? I hope that's okay." the other man said, he was way more bigger then the others and had a red beaded necklace on, his eyes were-wait, is he blind?

"CAN I PLEASE HAVE SOME HOT WINGS" a booming voice asked, his eyes were orange and red, matching with his hair.

"shut the fuck up Kyojuro. I want a sex on the beach cocktail" another white haired male asked, his appearance way more scary then the others with his scars that show from his face to where the tuxedo is undone to show more scars.

"I want the same as sanemi!" the male from the start exclaimed again.

Y/N noted all of these

"anything else?"

"how about you darling?" the flashy man asked. y/n internally screamed inside.

"can uzui shut his mouth for ten seconds" the man known as uzui smacked the scar face beside him while the others laughed.

Y/N walked away when they finished their order.

Okay! Maybe they are a little bit imtimidating.

Yeah, especially when she realised she saw them on the news for murder half way through their order.

But it's fine. It won't bother her THAT badly. Would it?.

"what's up with you? You are all shaken up."

"I just realised I was taking the fucking pillars orders"

"Are you fucking stupid? Everyone knew that's why they stayed closer to the entrance."

Y/N clicked her tounge, she knew that she was stupid but she Just wanted some more money! Cut her some slack!

"I did hear the pianist talk about it outside of getting changed. I didn't really deep much into it though."

Gyutaro placed the drinks on a round black tray along with some hot wings.

"I mean it's your problem now, and to be honest if they didn't like you, you would have been dead by now."

Y/N awkwardly smiled, knowing shes fucked.

"yeah yeah whatever."

She grabbed the tray and started to walk back towards the mobsters

I mean are they really mobsters? even though how imtimidating they were, they somewhat respected you.

They respected you way more then other people you are close with.

"look at her body."

"she's hot."

"yo guys should I ask for her number?"

At this point y/n couldn't even hear the things that were said about her. She was too focused about the men on the Vip table. Is she scared? Incredibly. Is she going to act like nothings bothered her about them? Yes. She is.

The platform heels platters the floor, alarming the men on the table.

"I see your back so soon"

The bling guy said, clasping his hands together.

"took her time didn't she." the scarface complained, tapping his finger on the table.

"don't be so rude sanemi."

" and how the fuck am I being rude?!?"

Y/N placed their drinks down, ignoring how her body's shaking from the pillars infront of her.

"so lady! How long have you been working here?"

Y/N paused at what she was doing and looked up to the fire head who just asked her a question.

"just under a year."

Kyojuro nodded and smiled

"that's nice, you look so young though how old are you?"

Sanemi who sat on the edge of the table hanged his leg out

"I bet not a day over 19"

Y/N chuckled lowly, letting her guard down

"I'm 23"

Uzui spat his drink out

"HUH"

Gyomei smiled towards y/n, he felt comfortable around her arua.

He couldnt explain it, she just seems nice to hang around with.

Y/N chuckled again

"do I really look that young? -"

"NO WAY UR MY AGE"

Uzui shouted light heartily, maybe he could have a 4th wife.

"how about she sits down with us? Since u guys are obsessing over her like bitchy dogs."

Sanemi complained, true they were acting like dogs, but he would be lying if he didn't want to talk to y/n too.

"that's not a bad idea!" Rengoku exclaimed while tengen patterned on the the sofa like chair in between him and Kyojuro.

"how about you sit here precious?"

Y/Ns face paled, does she have a choice? I mean she doesn't mind sitting between them she's just worried her boss would think she's slacking off again.

"don't force her, remember she has a job to do." gyomei said to the two, for sanemi to agree

"I'll pay her to sit with me, her job is to get money from customers right? Come sit down with us darling."

Uzui said, while rengoku took a few papers out of his wallet.

"It's fine if you don't want to! We will still pay for our drinks." Rengoku re assured y/n.

Y/N smiled softly, forgetting her worries about any of them.

"cmon girl they will be asking all night if u don't say anything." sanemi grumbled, embarrassed of the two weirdos on the table with him.

"sure.but not for to long"

"BETTER THEN NOTHING!" Rengoku shouted, for uzui to nudge sanemi to move for y/n to get in.

Sanemi stood up and put his hand on her shoulder.

"come on uzui we don't have all day."

"Sorry my fatass Is making it harder to get out, I know you can't relate sanemi" uzui chuckled to make sanemi embarrassed. Y/n chuckled lowly, just to embarrass him more.

"whatever, in you get girl"

Y/N nudged over to Kyojuro, only to smile at each other while ignoring gyomei telling uzui to not body shame anyone.

"It's not my fault he fails at squats" uzui said nudging over to sit next to y/n

Which made her sandwiched between two physco extroverts who wears expensive tuxedos

Nothing else could get worse then it already is.

"so pretty face, what's your name?" sanemi asked, fed up of the name calling.

"I bet her name is really cool!"

"I bet its something snazzy"

Gyomei took a sip of his water and looked over to y/n

"whatever her name is, it would be beautiful."

Y/N was going to answer sanemis question once she had some of uzuis drink, that he offered her.

"my name is -"

"Y/N."

#demon slayer #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #anime #kny x reader #kny yakuza au #thank you dear anon #aesthetic #art #gaming #writing #rengoku x reader #sanemi x reader #uzui x reader #gyomei x y/n #kny x y/n #hashiras #upper moons #gyutaro and daki

[brayneworms]

cold as ice, baby | hinata hajime

kinktober day one: fingering

word count. 2.9k

content. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, trans!hinata, gender neutral reader, fingering, established but new relationship, kissing, no real power dynamics but hinata likes being in control, biting, reader doesn't get touched but it's implied at the end

♪ freak - lana del rey.

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

Some days, Hajime's self-loathing is no joke.

It feels like the heat in Jabberwock intensifies it sometimes. Sort of... bastes it. Like it's cooking in its own filthy greasy residue and making him feel all oily and gross and hot. So, so hot. Under that stupid sun he cooks, and he sweats, and he feels like they can all smell it on him.

Probably not though. He showers every day, and nobody gets close enough to try.

It makes him feel a little sick, is all. How much he wants you sometimes. He feels gross, barely a step above Hanamura or maybe worse. He feels like he should go to jail sometimes for the way he ogles you. It's a hot island, so sometimes you have so much skin out, shoulders and legs, gleaming from sunblock lotion, slightly tacky from the whitish paste. Or the sea salt in your hair, or the chapstick you'd loaned from Saionji on your lips, apple and cinnamon. Or the swimsuits. Hajime's mouth goes dry.

He does not want to think about you in swimwear. Because then he's not going to stop thinking about you in swimwear, and it'll lead somewhere bad, which is the whole fucking issue, really.

You're so new, the both of you. He's liked you for ages, but you've only been official for a month or so. He can't just pounce on you like a starving lion. Even though he wants to. Even though he really, really wants to.

He watches you sit cross-legged with Tanaka to feed his hamsters, or get a piggyback from Owari with her strong hands on your thighs, or sit down and braid Ibuki's hair into loving little plaits, your fingers skating over the pale skin of her neck and scalp.

And it does something to him. He imagines your hands, smoothing down the tawny skin of his arms, his waist, encircling his ankles, gripping his throat, buried in his hair. He looks at your fingers and imagines them balling up the stupid standard-issue bedsheets underneath you. He sees you stretch out your legs and sees them bent in half, over his shoulders, around his waist like a vice, your pretty eyes clenched shut, your pretty mouth hung open.

Heat pools in the pit of his stomach.

Avoiding you and taking a lot of cold—unforgivingly cold—showers makes for a good temporary solution, but oh look, hasn't he just shot himself in the foot and scored a home goal with it? Because it just means you come knocking on his cabin door looking for answers.

At night.

When everyone's asleep, and you're alone, and he's only wearing his boxers because of this stupid perpetual heat.

"Have I done something wrong?" you ask, your voice all small and hurt, and Hajime wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

"No! Nonono," he blurts out in a panic, and he steps aside to let you in like a moron, like the idiot he so clearly is. It's not the first time you've been in his cabin, obviously, but it's night and you look all soft and vulnerable and he thinks you're freshly showered because he can smell the coconut bodywash you like to use.

But then reality breaks through because you look—honestly hurt, crossing your arms and shifting your weight from foot to foot, avoiding his eye, and then Hajime mostly just feels like a huge piece of shit.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, and pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes in a gesture of weariness. "It's—it really isn't anything you, uh, did. It's me. I'm just... weird."

"Weird about what?" you press, stepping forward. "C'mon, you can tell me. Whatever it is, we can just... talk it out."

You're so sweet. "It's—uh, honestly, it's just kinda really embarrassing. And stupid. And... weird. And I really don't wanna weird you out, or like, make you think I'm... something I'm not, 'cause I'm not, like, the thing that you're gonna think I am but I just—"

"Hajime." Your hands on his shoulders, clamping down. The warm soft skin dimples between your fingers. Hajime's voice dies in his throat. He stares on, cheeks cherry-red, entirely too hot, sweat collecting unpleasantly on the nape of his neck. "I can guarantee nothing you tell me is going to freak me out, or whatever it is you're scared of. And I can see it's clearly... weighing down on you."

You're so nice. Weighing down on you is such a nice choice of words. In reality he probably looks constipated from stress.

"It's just—" His tongue flicks out nervously to wet his lips, and your eyes absently flit down to track the movement, oh fuck, "It's just..." Bad idea bad idea bad idea. "I kind of... I don't want to come on too strong and... scare you off."

Your brow knits; he thinks he sees some sort of understanding fall into place behind your eyes, but it's kind of distant. "Come on too strong how?"

His blush spreads from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, down his neck. "I... ahaha..." The nervous breathless stupid laugh he gives makes him want to strangle himself. "Y-you know. When I'm around you, I..." He swallows hard. "It—I can't help but think about... stuff I shouldn't."

He sees the moment it clicks into place for you; the slight widening of your eyes, the parting of your lips. "A-ah."

Mortification floods him like a tsunami. "Sorry! Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I never should've—" He's burning alive, he's actually baking like one of Hanamaru's luxury strips of meat that he slowcooks in the oven for hours on end so the whole hotel building ends up stinking of fucking, chicken and stock and rosemary all day—

"Hajime, hey." Your hands squeeze on his shoulders. "Just—breathe for a sec, please, you're freaking me out but not for the reasons you think you are."

Hajime gulps, eyes you nervously, and takes in a few desperate pulls of air. He feels small, like he's actively shrinking.

"First of all. It's not... like, weird, you know, to f-feel that kind of stuff in general," you say, incredibly haltingly like it's very awkward for you. "But it's even less weird when you're actually, you know, in a relationship, and I—I don't want you to feel weird about this, that's all, or about telling me when you're—you know. Because I'd be down. I mean, to help. Assuming that's what you want, I mean."

Hajime stares at you. His brain abruptly throws up its hands, bluescreens, and goes for a smoke break.

"Wha—wha?" he says intelligently. You smile fondly, the kind of smile that reminds Hajime why he fell in love with you in the first place.

"Do you want me to help you out?" you repeat, very clearly, and Hajime buries his face in his hands. Heat shoots through him like liquid lightning, illuminating every pore of his body. He can feel it gather between his legs.

"You don't have to," he mutters, heart thumping against his ribcage.

"Hajime," you say pleasantly. "D'you think you're the only one who's had to hold themselves back?"

It's pure, unadulterated shock that makes him lift his face out his hands to gawp at you, but the moment he does you cup his face with both of your hands and kiss him. He wonders if you can feel the heat of his burning skin on your palms, whether you care, and then your tongue is in his mouth and he stops wondering anything at all. He groans softly against your lips, and finally his useless hands move and he's grabbing, curling a fistful of your shirt in one hand and cupping the back of your neck with the other. He feels like he's been depriving himself of you for so long, and for fucking what? You feel incredible.

He walks you backwards until your knees his the frame of his bed and you're unseated with an undignified yelp. You bounce on the mattress, peering up at him. Hajime swallows hard. "Is this... okay? We don't have to—anything you want, God, anything—"

You put two hands on his waist, just above the waistline of his boxers, and Hajime stammers to a halt. He gazes at you, wide-eyed, brilliantly red. You press your lips to the skin just under his navel and his stomach sort of convulses at the sensitivity, and you keep going, down the trail of hair that disappears behind the waistband of his underwear, kissing over the fabric until you get to—

Hajime jolts and swears. His hands clench reflexively into fists at his side. "Lay down," he bursts out, and then flushes deeper. "Uh... please. If you want to. I—"

You giggle and pry your hands off him, leaving him feeling colder than ever. Hajime watches, mouth dry as you drape yourself lazily over his bed. Your sleep short ride up your thighs, the collar of your shirt dips down, and all the skin is making his head dizzy. He clambers over you a little clumsily, hitting your knee with his with a thud that makes you wince.

"Sorry!" he panicks, hands fluttering nervously over your leg. "Sorry, did that—that was an accident, I—"

"It's okay, it's okay," you laugh, the back of your hand covering your mouth. "Jeez, Hajime. Relax a little maybe."

His flush must be crawling down his chest at this point. "Yeah. Maybe." He glances around. "Kind of hard."

"Is it?" you ask with a pointed glance at his boxers. He groans, but the levity is extremely welcome, makes him feel less anxious. Reminds him it's just you, and you would never seriously laugh at him. Reminds him that he's safe.

"Is it okay if I'm—I mean." He wipes his clammy palms surreptitiously over his thighs. "I feel better when I'm more... in control. Y'know?"

You smile up at him. "That's fine with me. Are you going to boss me around now?"

Hajime laughs feebly, glancing away. He thinks it's a reasonable pretense that the idea doesn't make him ten times wetter.

He kneels between your legs and kisses you. You're so soft, skin warm and pliant and fresh from the shower. He can't hold back a moan when your tongue slips against his, and when your hand slides over his waist again, the pinky finger of your hand grazing the band of his underwear, he finally plucks up the courage to grab your wrist and drag it.

He lets out a choked sound into your mouth as your pliant hand slides between his legs. Pulling back from the kiss, panting hotly against your mouth. "Okay?" he asks hoarsely. "Please, oh my god, I need... only if you want, only if you want to..."

Your hand twitches to life inside the tight grip of his fist, and you skim your fingers over the wet spot of the fabric of his underwear.

Hajime shudders, dropping his head into the crook of your shoulder. "Ah... oh, fuck..." His shaking hand drops your wrist, reprimanding himself fiercely for maybe grabbing you too hard, but you didn't say anything, but he shouldn't just grab you and lead you like you're cattle, he opens his mouth to apologise when you cup his cunt through his boxers and he loses the ability to do anything at all. Anything other than moan into your skin, starting to get salty from the heat and the proximity, and he goes delirious with the idea that he's ruining you a little. Like you've just showered, you'd scrubbed your body all over with lovely scented soap and he's going to undo it methodically, deliberately, and you're going to let him, when it's all over you're going to smell like sweat and him and you'll have to clean all over again.

It's an intoxicating thought, the idea that someone as soft as you would let someone like him mess you up.

Your hand slips under the waistband of his underwear, follows the trail of hair down and finding him soft and hot and dripping wet. Hajime curses as your fingers skate almost curiously over his clit, his folds.

"Oh shit," you curse, mumbling almost more to yourself. "Y-you're so wet."

He makes a high, embarrassed noise in the back of his throat, eyes clenched shut, and his hips rock up into your hand in a gesture that feels inherently needy.

Despite his grossly obvious urgency, you take the time to bring your fingers back to your mouth and press them inside. Hajime watches, slack-jawed, pupils blown. When you take your fingers out, they're gleaming wet, and you grin at him. "You taste amazing."

Hajime is assaulted with all new images; your head between his legs, his hand on the top of your hair or tangled in your hair. Your tongue, soft and skilled against him, dripping spit and cum onto the carpet, and he has to stuff his knuckles in his mouth to stop himself moaning out loud. Sweat drips off his forehead and lands on your chest.

"Y/n," he croaks. "I'm gonna lose my mind."

You smile almost shyly, as if you didn't just have your fingers in your mouth right in front of him. "O-okay. Okay. Just, um... okay, I got it."

Hajime swallows hard. "Y-you're still sure?"

"I'm so sure," you tell him earnestly. And with that your hand glides down, over his collarbones, the twin scars arching beneath his breastbone, down his tense stomach and under his boxers again. This time, your fingers move with purpose. They roll over his clit and down the centre of his folds, parting them, dipping inside just slightly before coming back up. He feels a shivering mix of pain and pleasure as two of your fingers circle his clit, an indication that he's almost too sensitive; he feels like he's on fire, like forks of lightning are emanating from the vertice between his legs, and he lets out choked, high noises against your throat.

Mindlessly, it seems, his hips roll against your head, seeking something more. You take the initiative to prod with one finger, dipping lower from the other before teasing at his entrance. His thighs shake and part slightly for you, and you slip inside without another word.

The breach feels like breathing for the first time; he's so wet and so sensitive that you slide inside with barely a hint of pain, easing in up to the first knuckle.

"Ohhh god," he groans, feeling mindless, feeling weightless. "Ohgodohgodohgod..."

"What should I—"

"More," he nearly begs. "I want you inside."

The word should be embarrassing, but they just aren't. Not in front of you. You get your finger in slowly, inch by inch until your knuckles press up against him and he's clenching the sheets with his free hands.

He almost convulses when your finger curls up like it's searching for something; it presses against a spongey spot inside him and he whines from somewhere deep in his chest, and he hears you swear to yourself as you start moving in and out.

"Nngh, oh—hah..."

Oh he's gonna die. Your fingers are inside him. He's gonna fuckin' die—

One turns to two turns to three, your thumb rolling constant circles over his clit, sometimes catching so sensitively that he has to bite back whimpers. There's the stretch and the burn but even that is okay, feels good after a few moments. He feels distantly really bad that he's not touching you, but he will after, fucking hell he will after, whatever you want him to, he'd kiss the fuckin' ground you walk on for making him feel so good right now. All too soon he feels the familiar tightening in his stomach like a band.

"H-hey," he gasps out. "I think I—I'm c-close, so..."

"O-oh," you say, sounding equally breathless. "It's okay."

Your fingers push up into him, curling almost viciously into that spot inside him just as your other hand taps his jaw and guides his face to yours for a kiss. It's barely more than panting against each other's lips as your thumb presses down hard on his clit.

"Fuck, fuck," he cries. "Fuck, you're so fuckin'—so perfect—'m cumming, shit—"

He sobs out as he cums, alight from the inside out, shaking like he's just been hit by lightning. The pressure is so much that he needs an outlet, his finges pressing bruising marks into your hip and thigh, and he turns his head and bites down almost feverishly on your collarbone.

You tap his arm with a yelp, fingers jerking inside him as he starts to come down. He can feel his release dripping down his inner thighs and he lifts his head groggily.

"Shit," he mumbles eloquently, staring at the teeth mark on your skin. He didn't break skin, thank fuck, but he still feels mortified. "Sorry. Oh my god, sorry. That was—that was a total accident, I..."

"Ah, it—it's okay." You swallow hard. "Was that..."

Hajime shakes his head dazedly. "Amazing," he croaks. "Y-you're amazing." He gets the werewithal to roll off you with his shaking limbs so his weight isn't pushing into you anymore.

You let out a long, slow breath. "Was pretty amazing for me too."

Hajime glances at you with a trickle of amusememt. "Not yet it wasn't."

Your brow scrunches in confusion—but realisation dawns when you feel his hand slide up your thigh. In his eyes is a question, one that you nod hastily to. Hajime grins weakly.

"Good," he breathes. "As soon as I get my breath back, it's your turn." And it sounds like the sweetest thing ever when he adds, a moment later with a twist of that characteristic cockiness that leaps out at the most inopportune of moments: "I can't wait to see how pretty you're gonna look when I make you cum."

#🫀.scribes #danganronpa smut #sdr2 smut #hajime hinata smut #hajime hinata x reader #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 x reader #hajime smut #hinata smut #sdr2 oneshot #danganronpa oneshot #kinktober 2023

[durrtydawg]

can i just say how thankful i am that you are keeping us samuel sluts WELL FED LATELY!!

And can i also please request something, anything angsty :3 i literally do not care what happens I'm just excited to see what you can provide 🥵

Thank you, kind anon. My heart is full of love from you and everyone else in my inbox (what the hell where did you all come from???) I hope this meets your expectations. It definitely made my chest tighten. Didn't specify a gender here- hope that's okay! would love to hear your thoughts bc this isn't the usual from me. big love <3

[Masterlist]

WOUNDED- Sam drake x Reader {angst one-shot}

CW: Injury, blood | 1.3k Words | Gif is absolutely unrelated I just think he's neat <3

“You’re….we can’t go back in there.” You hunch, dumfounded, pointing towards the entrance of the mid-collapsing crypt you’d just somehow fought your way out of. You clutch the bleeding gash on your upper arm, coughing as dust continues to settle around you.

The cough sparks a pain in your torso, drawing your attention to a bloodied score in your shirt.

“We can, and we will.” Sam grumbles, teeth gritted as he removes his plaid over-shirt, knuckles coated in a thick layer of crimson.

“Come on, Sam,” you urge, raspy and desperate, chin trembling. “We should get out while we still-”

“And then what?!” He snarls in your direction. You step back in trepidation, eyes glossing over as he waits for an answer. His eyes burn into yours, and you don’t know whether to chastise yourself for being such a coward, or scream some sense into him. His newfound aggression, however, pulls you away from the latter.

Never had a job gone so horrendously wrong at the last hurdle. Months of planning and physical toil, rotted down into a husk of nothing but severe injury and anger in mere minutes.

Sam scoffs at your silence, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. The fragmented tearing of the fabric only makes you shrink further away from him.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, attempting to forego tears that threaten to spill, but the sudden sting from a freshly punched split has your cheeks dampen anyway. You wince, limping over to the wall to catch your breath and try to calm down. 

Sliding unsteadily down the wall, you land with a thud, boots forcing another cloud of dust to roll over the ground as gravel gets scuffed aside by your heel. 

The pain in your torso intensifies, and you shakily peel the torn fabric of your shirt away from your skin. It’s not good.

You watch through watery vision as Sam wraps scraps of his shirt around his bleeding knuckles, his expression stiff and unmoving from his indignant glare. His grey t-shirt clings to his torso, with help from sweat and blood that steadily grows more and more stagnant from time and exertion. His jaw is clenched so frighteningly tense that you swear you feel your own teeth ache, and oh, the anger in his eyes is horrible. You’ve never seen him so enraged- so…intoxicated by his own determination to succeed, to the point where he doesn’t seem to care whether or not you bleed out in front of him.

Does he care? Has he even noticed the extent of your injuries? You wince as the rise and fall of your chest repeatedly pushes and pulls soiled fabric from the laceration on your side. With reluctance, you press your palm against it, squeezing sore, cracked fingers around the expanding red stain on your t-shirt, and you hiss, unintentionally catching his glare.

He takes in your appearance, and it’s hard to tell if he’s more angry at you or himself. Then, he looks away. 

He fucking looks away, and you feel sick. You squeeze your eyes shut after taking an anxious glance towards your fingers. The small spaces between each are thickly oozing crimson that’d be so beautiful if it were any substance other than your own blood. God. No- you didn’t think it was this bad. 

“It’s just a graze”, you whisper to yourself. Just a graze. Your chin quivers. He’ll come around.

“Shouldn’t’a brought you.” What? Your eyes snap open in disbelief. “I shouldn’t…” You shake your head at the venomous grumble he mutters from across the room. Through a haze, you watch him smack blood and dirt-encrusted hands over pockets in search for more ammunition that you both know doesn’t exist. He grunts, loud, angry, before kicking the stone. 

You shrink back further into the wall out of a fear that you’ve never felt around Sam before, stifling a yelp of pain as your wound twists painfully under your hand.

He covers his mouth with his palm, nostrils flaring as his eyes squeeze shut- an attempt at suppressing his outburst to give way for some capacity to think. You watch on apprehensively, head throbbing as he turns back towards the crypt entrance you’ve only just managed to scramble away from, scathed, exhausted, and possibly on the brink of passing out all together. His brows shift from a tightened rage into a conflicted indecisiveness that makes your mouth go tight and dry.

It’s purgatory that you can’t afford right now.

“Sam.” You croak, trying to adjust your uncomfortable posture. “I…I can’t.”

Your lungs are suddenly under a painful pressure that you can’t shift. What would happen if he makes you go back in? Sam storming off ahead, blind-firing into mercenaries far more prepared for battle than the pair of you could ever hope to be, as you lamely hobble behind, becoming more and more lightheaded by the second. 

Your chest tightens more as you imagine him looking back at you as he ducks down behind a precariously structured pile of rubble to reload his pistol, with nothing but disappointment- no, scrap that- disgust in his eyesas you fail to keep up with him. 

You’d plead from a small but dangerous distance, crying out for him to help you get back to your feet after your inevitable fall; blood loss rendering your legs into useless jelly, bullet and stab wounds too sore to pick yourself back up again. The pain you’d feel as he mutters something towards you one last time before taking off into the gunfire smoke subduing your peripheral.

No. No! He’d never leave you behind. No matter how desperate he is to prove his worth again. No. Not your Sam. He’ll come around.

You pant through parted lips, damning your panic attack back to the confines of your stomach.

“We’re…gonna die if we go back in there.” You murmur, resting your head back against the stone wall, eyes squeezed shut as if to try and shut out the incessant pain pulsating around your body.

“Don’t be ridiculous-”

“I want to go home. Before I can’t.” You spit, causing Sam to glare in your direction. He stands slowly, taking in your weakened form. He’s trying to uphold his expression of anger, but a brief softness in his eyes fails him. You feebly grab at the wall behind you, dragging yourself halfway upright, stopping to hiss in pain. You’re lightheaded.

You collapse back onto the ground, and you feel your energy dwindle even faster.

Had you actually felt your own mortality bite at your heels this harshly before?

God, your heart is pounding, the sound beginning to echo around your head, taunting you with your own failure. Your own weakness.

He stares at you for a moment. Eventually, his eyes soften even more. 

Your brows arch slightly in hope.

Crouching in front of you, he grabs a hold of your head, taking you in for a moment before placing a soft kiss onto the bridge of your nose that twists deep into your guts more than any enemy blade ever could.

He pulls his lips away, hands still holding the sides of your face as the weight of your eyelids becomes another burden you’re trying hard to fight against. You watch his eyes flit between every feature on you, a watery glaze of his own forming as your brows twitch in defeated disbelief, and a distraught understanding, your hands growing ever wetter from your own blood.

He looks away again. Back to the tight space you just escaped from. You begin to shake your head with whatever strength you can muster.

You know what he’s about to do, and you try to pull together the will to push yourself up, but you can’t. Your body is tired. Drained.

“No.” You whisper, voice strained by the silent sob bubbling up your throat.

“I’m sorry.”

He never apologises. He never ever apologises.

You want to kick, and scream, and beg, but your mouth is tight and your lips won’t let you form words anymore.

“I… have to see this through.” He whispers. Any louder and you’ll hear that he’s crying too.

Then Sam stands, turns from you, wipes his eyes, and walks.

Knowing that you’ve both seen each other’s faces for the last time is more painful than the feeling of your life draining from you.

#sam drake #samuel drake #uncharted #sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #hehe asks #this made me sad x #angst

[rifleseye]

Honestly I haven't talked about it... At All here because I'm afraid I'll be fucking crucified for it but, this is my blog and my portrayal and I do what I want so! I want to talk about Perceptor and Brainstorm's relationship here for a minute and why I hate don't think s*mpatico works.

As a note: Brainstorm isn't my muse, he's not My Guy, but I do love a good analysis.

Anyways, that aside, the problem I have with it first and foremost is that Perceptor isn't even part of the equation. He has very little of a role in their dynamic and a lot of it comes from Brainstorm and his hangups. All these problems they have with each other aren't even necessarily Perceptor's fault.

There is, I feel, a major class divide between them. Brainstorm was cold constructed, a fact he kept private from everyone, even Chromedome, until the Killswitch. The one exception to this rule would be Nautica, who he even told his original name. Because of this, he has MASSIVE self esteem issues. He begins working at Kimia, and he most likely worked his ass off to climb in the ranks as much as he could.

Enter Perceptor, who, by pure circumstance, ends up on Kimia to work on Kup alongside Brainstorm. This is the one time they worked together. We don't know how well they worked together, but based on Perceptor's major reservations and distaste for the project, it wouldn't surprise me if he ignored him for the most part. Not off to a great start.

They leave Kimia and... oh what do you know, Perceptor is assigned to watch over the guy you just worked on. What do you know, Perceptor gets the credit for your shared work. And, while the alternative ended up being quite terrible for Perceptor, I can only imagine Brainstorm was bubbling with jealousy over the fact he was sent with Kup in what Seemed a highly regarded position.

POV: You're Brainstorm, this guy comes in, he's a microscope, he was forged, he is doing what he was meant to do. High Command recognizes his work. They let him go on missions. You're left on Kimia.

Anyways, fast forward a few years and you're really high up in Kimia, you're both notorious and respected. You have a team that works under you. This is your time to shine. And then that damn microscope comes back, and in the span of NINE MONTHS he's not only either On or working hand in hand With the ethics committee, but he was also the one who was requested to go study Megatron. What The Fuck. You're getting kinda sick of this guy and you've interacted all of once. People keep comparing you to him. What The Fuck x2.

A bit later you join the Lost Light, you think, okay maybe I've finally escaped this guy's shadow. GUESS WHAT! HE'S HERE TOO! AND HE'S BEEN MADE THE CHIEF SCIENCE OFFICER!! Not only that but the majority of your old team is onboard the Lost Light, and they get transferred to working under this guy! What The Fuck x3!

So... what do you do? Well, anything any well adjusted person would do: You hinge your entire self worth on one-upping this guy and act out as much as possible until you surpass him. You even try pushing his boundaries to see if that'll get anything out of him.

And this guy barely even gives a shit about you. He barely even knows you exist.

Anyways. All this to say: I do not think they get along, I do not think they're even friends, and I especially do not think they would enter any sort of relationship.

#【 ❝ i will never stop complaining and that is a promise ❞ 】 ✕ ooc. #【 meta. 】 — ❝ the flesh is your reference for knowing the soul. ❞

[fangirlwriting-stories]

They Say You Can't Fight Fate (I Say Fucking Watch Me)

Chapter One

Author's Note: And that's a wrap! Thanks for reading this one, it was a tad spontaneous, but I really loved writing it, and I'm glad it got an ending when I wasn't quite sure when I posted it. I hope you enjoyed!

Chapter Eight:

Remus was almost scared to admit it sometimes, but things were good.  He’d never expected to have the freedom to work with people he loved, doing something he at least didn’t hate, and not have to worry about stupid soulmates or stupid orderlies or stupid people never believing him.

Roman seemed to be doing much better with the therapist, though Remus was loath to admit it.  But he was happy, and that made Remus happy too.  Logan was still amazing fun to hang out with, and Remus was definitely not imagining the blushes that were starting to be sent his way.  He was going to have to bring them up sooner rather than later.  Especially considering Virgil finally got his head out of his ass, realized how stupid waiting for your soulmate was, and decided to kiss Janus about it.  The two of them weren’t any less argumentative, but now quite a few of those arguments ended with the break room being mysteriously locked.  It annoyed Roman to death, but Remus thought it was hilarious.

Overall, though, life was starting to look up in a very real way, and even if there were still problems, Remus was starting to feel like it was something he might be able to handle.

He should have known it wouldn’t last.

It was a quiet Saturday, which was unusual, but it being unusual meant all four of them were scheduled to work, so they were lazing around at the front desk and tossing life stories and quips back and forth (well, with most of the stories coming from people other than Remus).

Remus was sitting on the desk and leaning back on his hands, listening to the others, smiling as he watched them.  Roman was arguing with Virgil about what movies to watch when they had a Disney marathon, and Janus was only cutting in to feed the flames of their argument.  Remus, on the other hand, was allowing himself a moment to be a sap and think about how much he loved the three of them, and how much he’d appreciated everything they’d done for him.

And then the bell jingled, and a horribly familiar voice yelled “REMUS!”

Remus went stiff immediately, and Roman whirled around from where he was arguing with Virgil and jumped forward in the same motion, surprising everyone except for Remus with how quickly he moved forward and shoved himself in front of him.

“Hey, woah,” Virgil said, moving forward at the same time Janus turned around.  “What’s going on?”

Their Mom and Dad both stepped forward, and Remus could see Roman shaking as badly as he was, but he didn’t move from his spot in front of him.

“What on earth are you two doing here?” their dad said, looking back and forth between them both.

“Uh, sorry,” Virgil said, and to Remus’ surprise, he stepped forward and pushed both Roman and Remus further behind him.  “But we have a strict policy against serving people who give our employees visible fear responses.”

“Step aside, young man,” their father said, crossing his arms.  “We’re here to speak with our sons.”

Virgil exchanged a look with Janus, and Remus could see the exact moment that something processed for the two of them.  He felt a little sick, but instead he just grabbed Roman’s arm and squeezed it, and Roman linked their hands and squeezed back.

“Get off of the premises right now,” Janus said lowly, pointing a finger out the door.  “Or I am calling the police.”

“No!” Remus screamed, and Janus turned in surprise to him.

Police would be on their parents side as soon as they even started to explain the situation.  They’d send Remus back, and who knows what they’d do with Roman, and Remus would never see him or Janus or Virgil ever again.

“Remus,” their mother said, stepping forward and holding her hands out.  “We just want to help you—”

“No, get away from me, stay away!” Remus screamed, backing up and pulling Roman with him.

“Fine,” Virgil said, shifting and putting himself firmly in front of Roman and Remus.  “Get off the premises right now or I will run into the other room and grab one of our fucking bats.  And rest assured I am not afraid to use it.”

“Don’t involve yourself in situations you couldn’t have the slightest hope of understanding,” their father said, crossing his arms and glaring at Virgil.

“I understand enough,” Virgil growled.  “I understand you’re scaring the hell out of two of the bravest people I know.”

“You listen here—”

Remus turned, grabbed Roman’s arm, and ran them both into the other room, because Virgil had a good idea there and he was going to take advantage of it.  Roman seemed to pick up on his plan after a second and thankfully grabbed a bat too.  Before they headed back out, he grabbed Remus’ arm.  “How far are you planning on going?” he asked quietly.

“I have no fucking clue,” Remus said, and banged the door open, startling everyone on the other side of it.

“Get out of here,” Remus said, hoisting up the bat behind his head.  “Or I am going to fucking kill you.”

Both of his parents stared at him for a minute, and then his father sighed and put his hands on his hips, looking exasperated.

“Remus, don’t be ridiculous,” he started.

Remus screamed and slammed the bat into the wall, putting a hole right through it.  “LISTEN TO ME!” he screamed.

Well, now at least his father looked a little frightened.

“Remus,” his mother said, her voice shaking.  “Stop it, you’re causing a scene.”

“Good!  I want to!  Get the fuck out of here or I am going to slam this bat into the space between your eyes, if that is what it takes to get you the fuck out of my life!  I am happy here!  I have Roman and I have friends and I have someone I might want to actually date sometime, and I am not going to let you fuck it up again!”

“You shouldn’t be dating anyone, they’re not your soulmate—” Remus’ father started.

“No, Roman is my soulmate,” Remus said, taking a couple steps forward until, to his vicious delight, his parents took a couple steps back.  “Because I fucking say so!  That is my choice, you don’t get a say in it!  You don’t get any say in my life anymore, because every time you have one, you fuck it up!  You fucked me up and you fucked Roman up too, and I am not going to let you stay here and fuck anyone or anything else up!  So I suggest you turn around and run home with your tails between your legs.  Because I don’t want to die, but you know something?  I’m starting to think I wouldn’t mind so much if you did.”

Neither of his parents said anything, just gaped at him in shock and a still-not-appropriate-enough amount of fear.

Janus and Virgil were both staring at him too, but Remus was trying very hard not to look at them right now.  That became a little more difficult however, when after a second Janus shook himself and turned around, glaring at Remus’ parents.

“Bye,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Both of Remus’ parents looked at him again.  Remus smacked his bat against his hand.  They turned and fled.

As soon as they were out of sight, everything rushed out of Remus at once, and he dropped to his knees and sobbed, the bat clattering to his feet beside him.

A moment later a second bat hit the ground, and Remus felt the familiar arms of his Roman encircling him.

“It’s okay,” Roman whispered.  “It’s okay it’s okay.”

Remus turned and buried his head in his chest, trying and mostly failing to breathe in any capacity.

Then, he saw a different person kneel next to him out of the corner of his eye, and Virgil was suddenly there saying something.

“I’m gonna count to four, okay?  Try and breathe in.”

Remus listened and tried to do what he said, and eventually his breathing got a little stabler, though he was still crying, and he definitely didn’t want to let go of Roman.

“Okay,” came Janus’ voice, and he knelt down on Remus’ other side.  “We’re closed up, no one else is coming in today.”

“‘m sorry,” Remus managed.

“For what?” Virgil said firmly, looking meaningfully at him.

Remus sniffed.  “For damaging the wall,” he said with a weak smile.  “‘m not supposed to do that.”

Virgil burst into laughter, smiling back at Remus and shaking his head.  “I love you, you idiot,” he said.

Remus sniffed again, his smile fading.  “You want an explanation?”

“We don’t need one,” Janus said.

Remus turned to stare at him.  “You’re telling me you aren’t curious?”

“Remus, I have been desperately curious for months now,” Janus said.  “But last time we tried to talk about something before you were ready it went really, really poorly.”

Roman nudged Remus gently from the front, and Remus looked up at him.  “I think it’s time,” he said quietly.

Remus looked at him for a minute, and he nodded.  “‘Kay,” he mumbled.  He blinked a couple times, and then grabbed Roman’s still-shaking arms.  “You okay?”

Roman let out a shaky breath and shook his head, some tears slipping past his eyes.

Remus climbed up and wrapped his arms tightly around Roman, and Roman took his turn to cry into Remus’ shoulder.

When they both felt a little more stable, Remus turned to look at Janus, then Virgil, trying to think of how to start.  Finally, he sighed.

“Here,” he said, pulling his sleeve up and showing them both his soulmark.  Janus raised an eyebrow, and Virgil just looked at it, his face not revealing anything.

“Mom and Dad wouldn’t ever listen when I told them I was okay,” Remus said quietly, pulling his sleeve back down.  “And eventually they tossed me into a mental hospital, looking for something to justify their stupid beliefs and insane paranoia.”

“I kinda got the opposite treatment,” Roman said, pulling up his own sleeve and laying it out in front of them, but just leaving it there instead of pulling it back down.  “I told them I wasn’t okay, over and over, but they never let me not be.”

“So we ran,” Remus said.  “Decided we were soulmates, said each other’s soulmarks, and just ran away.”

Virgil whistled, leaning back on his hands.  “Well, shit.”

“I’m so sorry,” Janus said quietly.

Remus let out a shaky breath.  “Yeah,” he said, “me too.”

“We kind of lied about being eighteen for the first couple months we were here,” Roman said.

Janus snorted.  “Oh, we knew.”

Remus laughed a little, giving him a tired smile.

“I vote we all head back to Janus’ and I’s place,” Virgil said.  “We’re taking tomorrow off to watch movies and stuff our faces with junk food.”

“I’m so down with that plan,” Remus said.

“Eventually we’re going to need to figure out a plan to keep you both safe long term,” Janus said.  “But I think Remus bought us all some time there.  It will also help now that you’re both actually eighteen.”

“I like that plan,” Roman said, giving an exhausted nod.

“For now let’s go home though,” Virgil said, standing.  “I’m gonna go pull the car around.  Just meet me out front whenever you can manage.”

“Hey,” Remus said, looking between Virgil and Janus.  “Thank you.  Both of you.  So much.”

Janus reached over and gave Remus a squeeze, and then Virgil leaned down and did the same.

“Of course,” Virgil said.  “We look out for each other when we work shitty service jobs together.”

Remus laughed and smiled up at him, and Virgil gave him a smirk as he headed out to the car.

Janus helped him and Roman both stand up a second later, and they all headed for the exit at a leisurely pace.

And as they stepped out front to head towards movies and junk foods, and Remus climbed into the car with his brother and two closest friends, he realized maybe the good part of life would last after all.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #creativitwins #platonic dukeceit #platonic dukexiety #platonic prinxiety #platonic roceit #anxceit #my fic

[lunarifie]

Rewatching Ninjago

(with no context other than the episode)

The Tournament of Elements episode 1-2

I don't think we give Jay enough credit for his showmanship from his game show to prime empire.

Wondering if he built the obstacles for his game show

“I'm a ninja. And your wearing makeup.” damn Lloyd, let him do what makes him happy

Why is cole shirtless with an axe cutting lumber that is so unsafe my guy. I get that you wanna show off your abs but still.

It's sad that Jay and Cole got sick of each other bc of smth silly.

Jay was a lot angrier when he mentioned he didn't wanna be on a team with Cole. Cole was a lot, sadder. Idk, smth I noticed.

Nickname 1: green machine

Poor Cole he just wants to be some guy. Later on when the ninja get famous he probably hates that.

I hate Kais fighting ring costume sm.

“It should've been me, not Zane.” shit. Thats a lot of baggage to unpack. Kais need to carry burdens, like being the green ninja and depending on himself, is a real older brother trait I see in him.

How long has it been for Zane statue to already have moss growing on it....

His hawk is still there 🥺

Lloyd really just wants his family back. I've talked about this before but I truly think Lloyd just wants to be around his loved ones and not be alone. Sad how it always seems like he's the one who ends up alone, even now.

The noodle shop was probably the exact moment the ninjago writers decided to give cole the classic ‘i love food’ trait that every character in a slightly comedic show has.

Cole and Kai worked so well as a team here love them sm. Look at them. “I would be careful if I were you, he's not great when he's hangry.” Love them

Cole not knowing fortune cookies have fortunes inside and probably eating paper all his life is fucking hilarious to me

The fact that they can get together after months and still act and joke as if nothing happened. True friendship.

Lloyd is so terrible at lying bless him

Kai after seeing everyones wearing regular clothes: See! I told you wearing our ninja suits was a bad idea.

Hes just like me fr

I like their duffel bags that have their symbols on them.

I'll always be salty that their redesigns don't have their of symbols. It was a nice touch. Especially since they used it once like the Batman signal in the sky.

Garmadon: no room? (kicks a fucking guy off the boat) now theres room.

Best decision to have Garmadon as the main ‘sensei’ in this season. Hes more straightforward than wu and just a better character in general i think writing wise.

What even happens to all the elemental masters after this season. Do they just live their lives? Do we ever see them again?

SEE. THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT. everytime one of the ninja do something really cool, the other ninjas just fall in love for a second and its great

Why does cole just have his name on the back of his ninja suit doesnt that defeat the whole purpose of the mask and being stealthy 😭

Garmadon: i swore to never return…

Jay: you know, you should never swear. Its a sign of weak verbal skills.

HFJSJTHSNSFJJSNR

Jay probably refuses to swear and says stuff like

Jay: oh fiddlesticks, that really ruffles my feathers

Kai crying: Please just say fuck

Hes just like his parents

Kai (pushes his friends aside): ladies first

He probably bashes on Jay for being a simp and then goes and does this shit bfjsbtjdnr

Master chen must be DECADEs old if he was garmadons sensei. Do the elemental masters has some kind of longer lifespan????

Pretty kabuki woman come out:

Cole: yeah, whatever they are, i don’t like them.

Be who you aaaare for your priiiide

Garmadon: whatever you do. Dont lose focus.

Kai: WHATD HE SAY????

Jay: SOMETHING ABOUT MUCUS.

“Hey! Im kai the master of fire.”

“Im skyler, master of… wouldnt you like to know.”

HFNSJRNJS

love her

They tailored the rooms to all the ninjas wants and desires so im not surprised that lloyds room is more ‘homey’ than the rest

HFNSIFNSJNR WHY DID THIS GUY JUST ATTACK JAY IN HIS BATHROOM HE WAS FULL ASS NAKED DUDE

Nickname 2: hot tamale

I love cole in this he was just so confused and chill.

he just waltzed to the jade blade with a full stomach, almost vomited from spinjitzu, got a stomache cramp, whined when the others took the jade blade from him, gave up, and just found another random blade. Love him sm.

No matter how much Jay says he hates cole i wont forget how happy he was when he saw that cole made it with the jade blade.

The ninja are just good people in general

Kai hated the guy but still felt immense guilt when he fell through the trapped door

Invisible guy: can i sit here :D

Jay: Scram! I can still see you and this is a private conversation!

Cole: jay that was really mean 🙁🤨

thats how he normally acts Cole.

THE WAY KAI JUSY PUSHES JAY OFF HIS BALCONY 😭

Theyre really pushing this ‘kais hot and warm’ ‘skylers cold and chilly’ when zanes right there

Jay: you just had to leave me hanging huh romeo.

Jay can be so funny

Cole: god this bed is so soft its amazing! Mines made of rocks! What a crock(Bed flips showing a secret entrance) uh GUYS!

Kai: COLE I GET IT, YOU LIKE MY BED 🙄😠

Cant believe Jay and Kai are peeping toms /j

I would immediately be Cole, laughing my ass off if i learned my friend had a crush on someone they didn’t know they were related to 💀

My favorite thing about Jay is that he’ll get excited about something with the enemy if its even remotely cool. Even if its to hinder/defeat the ninja themselves.

Chen (steals metal mans powers)

And this is why you read the terms and conditions people.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #Rewatching Ninjago

[perfectly-intoxicated]

tw: mentions of child endangerment

'Woman Sentenced to Serve 15 Years in Federal Prison for Child Endangerment/Negligent.'

Hannah stares at the paper. The words stare back at her, taunting. Who even reads papers anymore?

Her, apparently.

When her hands start shaking again, she tosses the newsletter aside onto the pristine green grass and rotates her wrists in slow circular motions. Her stress ball is inside, but she really doesn't want to go in. The elderly couple fostering her were sweet. They made her snickerdoodle cookies last night and taught her how to play Parcheesi.

They were too nice in a way that made her uncomfortable.

A woman had passed by the house today, and she hadn't needed to step through the entrance to see her seated with Anne and Benny (the fairytale, elderly couple) through the glass of the door. She should be happy at the possibility of leaving, of having a new place to stay. But at this point, the idea of staying at anyone's house makes her feel sick to her stomach.

Sleeping in the woods under a pile of rocks as blankets sounded better. Like a poorwill bird.

So now here she is, sitting on the steps of a porch that wasn't hers, in a house that wasn't hers, with people she didn't want to get to know better.

The front door opens and closes behind her, and the sound of heels clicking against the wood confirms it was definitely not Anne. Anne would've fallen the second she got a pair of heels on and broken her back from her lack of balance and grace. Respectfully.

Seconds pass. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. When it passes that time range, she turns back to look at the woman staring her down as if she were an ancient artifact who needed to be studied, and raises her eyebrows in a way that silently asks her to talk already.

"What?"

"You're not what I expected."

Her voice is deep and smooth, with the hints of an accent lingering behind every word. Colombian, maybe. Her tone reminds her of the satin sheets they used inside the house for each of the beds, but not intolerable. Sort of... comforting.

Sort of. Not entirely.

"Well, sorry to disappoint." Hannah disregards her with a sarcastic frown, and turns her head back to face away from the woman and ahead of her instead. She feels the presence step closer until she's seated right next to her, and she wants to rip her hair out from not being able to have a single moment to herself.

"Cuando mencioné disappointment?" While she couldn't say or understand a single fucking word of Spanish, her tone makes it easier to decipher what she means, and Hannah turns back to give her an incredulous look.

If she wasn't so over her already, she could appreciate how beautiful she is. Pitch black hair that cascades down her back in light beach waves, with even the hints of frizz around each curl not getting any attention from how her face is painted and pampered with the kind of make-up douchey men would look at and say was 'natural'. She made the embroidered print of her white blouse and her deep blue jeans look classy, when it would most definitely look cheap on anyone else.

It would be easier to insult her if her personality wasn't so patient and her appearance was terrible.

"What did you mean then?" Hannah asks, forearms resting over her knees and fingers picking at the dry skin of her thumbs, pushing back her cuticle only to try and pick it off.

The woman folds her hands in front of her and mirror her motions, head tilted as she thinks. "I've seen what you've been through. I've done my research. Having to raise a parent because of their poor decision-making, growing up in a world where you can't trust anyone. I know what that is like, y es una mierda."

"But you're strong. Resilient." She continues, the corners of her lips raising, and there's a glimpse of something in her eyes that Hannah hasn't seen in a while. Respect. "You have every right to let the world crush you and die right where you sit. It was what everyone expected of you. Yet here you are, looking at me like I'm ridiculous and you'd rather be anywhere else."

"You sound ridiculous. And I would rather be anywhere else."

The woman finally lets herself smile fully, as if her words weren't even the slightest bit rude. "If that's the case, I have the perfect 'anywhere else' location. If you'll be able to 'tolerate me', that is."

Hannah's eyes flit over her face and study her demeanor, looking for signs of deception or ulterior motive. Her body is relaxed, far calmer and confident in her own skin than she was in her own, like any choice she made wouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things and she was only giving her a choice in the matter because she seemed interesting enough.

She could give two shits over how she used to live. No sympathy, no empathetic glances at the scars of her hands, and that's exactly what she wanted.

"So I guess I just go off with a stranger that easily, huh?"

"Something tells me you're desperate to leave this house." Fuck, and she really was. It got under her skin, how she could read her so easily and Hannah couldn't tell if the amusement she's displaying was real or not. Shifting where she sits, she huffs out a breath and slips her hands into the pocket of her sweatshirt, the both of them flexing open and then into a fist once they're out of sight.

"Maybe if you tell me your name, I'll consider it." Even though she already had her answer.

The woman holds out her hand in greeting the same way one would when meeting the governor or some shit and not some moody sixteen-year-old. "Monica. A pleasure."

#𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞. (au) #learn to survive. (au lore)

[thewholecrew]

@headstrongblake asked: how do they act when they’re sick? / all the kids who want!

kassy - for someone who usually loves to take care of others, who needs control, who rarely shows vulnerability, kassy when she's sick is pretty much all the complete opposite and honestly would love nothing more than someone to dote on her and care for her while she's sick. she's definitely grumpy and whiny, and will probably just try to sleep through it all.

grant - i'm pretty sure he would just try to hide it as best he could. he has a pretty good immune system thanks to how he was forced to grow up but when he gets sick he gets hit pretty hard. he'll probably try to avoid everyone not only to make sure they don't get sick from him but just so they don't see him this way.

alec - as much as he tries to just power though it, alec is also extremely careful while sick because he doesn't want to spread it. he'll be constantly cleaning everything he touches, wears a mask and gloves when making food (he absolutely does not want to get his grandma sick who has a weakened immune system) and is often a lot more clumsy because he doesn't want to slow down but his body needs him to.

nate - has a lot less energy when he's sick, jokes are usually a lot more half-assed and though he won't be grumpy he might appear it since he isn't smiling and grinning, cracking jokes as much. he's absolutely hates getting sick but had gotten sick a lot when he was younger in the orphanage because if one kid was sick it spread like the plague. his immune system is pretty tough now because of that and having lived on the streets but he hates coughing and not being able to breathe out of his nose.

rev - is absolutely miserable sick and most of the time will just say fuck this and disappear in their wolf form for the duration of that time since they're already uncomfortable in their skin without being sick. luckily because of their regenerative healing they don't stay sick very long or very drastically. so for a day or two they may go mia because of this.

hunter - i don't think anyone would be able to tell if he's sick or not. like rev, he most likely won't be sick very long and aside from some physical hints that he is sick and perhaps a deeper voice, he doesn't change. his perk of being so monotone and imassive is that people usually will just mistake him for tired instead.

trinity - would also try and just push through being mostly because growing up it was expected from her mother. she had a busy life of all kinds of after school extracurriculars and was expected to never miss a day of school, so when she would be sick it would be seen as an excuse. she definitely gets quite snappy though because she still feels as though she's not allowed to take a break and rest.

#headstrongblake #answered ask. #kassy harwell: about. #alec cross: about. #grant ward: about. #nathan bishop: about. #ryan everheart: about. #hunter everheart: about. #trinity lambert: about.

[foggyparadisecandy]

I hate when things end and there was so much undone and unsaid. Promises that go unfulfilled or, worse, were broken. Personal shit ahead.

Potential unreached.

Damages left unrepaired.

I hate uncertainties and unknowable things.

I hate knowable things that I no longer can address.

I hate hating things. Such a waste of time and energy.

I hate knowing someone I love is hurting because they are choosing to hurt.

I hate thinking that their worldview is so fractured and damaged.

I hate thinking that their default mode is isolation and avoidance when we spent so much time showing how much better connection and sharing is.

I hate lessons being unlearned.

I hate knowing that advancements have been set back.

I hate thinking she might be hurt or killed because of her choice - her completely unnecessary and voluntary choice to run into danger.

I hate thinking that trauma is being added to trauma after trauma after trauma.

I hate thinking that she doesn't feel she deserves or can ask for help.

I hate thinking that she thinks she is all alone and has to be alone and deserves to be alone and will always be alone.

I hate missing her and worrying about her.

I fucking hate this entire bullshit thing.

I hate that she abandoned me and stole my voice.

I hate that she wants to hurt.

I hate that she hurt me in some subconscious way to hurt herself.

I hate knowing that these are all just very informed opinions of things I know.

I hate wondering if she was lying to me all along because I fucking know she wasn't and I trust her.

I hate believing in her but also seeing she needs help to acheive her maximum potential.

I hate being cut off from her.

I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate because I'm so afraid for her and worried about her.

I'm so worried for her.

I want her to be safe.

I want to know she will be safe.

I want to know she will get real help and stop pushing down shit.

I want to know she will heal.

I want to know she will choose a path that gives her a loving life.

I want to know she accepts she is loveable, loved, deserving, wonderful, sweet, kind, caring, capable, dependable, strong, golden.

I want her to be ok.

Selfishly ... all of it is selfish ... I want to KNOW she will be ok and live.

It's a sick thought but I started as her "daddy" but I feel like her dad - I feel like she's my daughter fr and I'm so fucking beside myself again with worry for her.

She never had a decent father. She never had unconditional support and love. She had neglect and mental abuse and a despicable set of parents.

She deserves better. She chose to push me aside so it's not me.

I am not her real father. I'm not even her fake father.

I'm just some rejected fool who still cares about her. Impotent to do anything. Cut off.

How do I find the path to moving on ... hmmmm ... why do I continue to care ... she did so much for me as I did things for her. She changed me fundamentally.

God do I miss her and fear for her. When do I set this fear down?

I never really could keep her safe. She could have had a car accident at any point. Point in fact, she was shot on a mission. She could have been killed. I would not have known. I could not have helped.

Is that the path to letting this go?

It was always an illusion that I could keep her safe. Despite my desires. It was always imagination. None of us can keep anyone else safe in the long run.

Everyone walks alone on their paths in life.

I'm driving myself crazy with fear. Even when we were together, I couldn't stop her from being in dangerous situations. Life itself is dangerous. We all have risks all day long.

I need to focus on that and remember. Just because she rejected me and it triggered my abandonment issues, nothing materially changed about my ability to keep her safe. That was always a fantasy.

And I certainly cannot unring the bell she rang. She signed up for the mission. It's done. She's either going to stay alert, stay alive soldier! or she's going to get hurt or killed.

I can't change shit.

Fuck. Ok. I never could keep her safe. And I cannot change shit about her situation. AND ... I will never fucking know the end of her story regardless.

That's correct. Those three things are truths - hard and ugly truths.

Maybe some day she reaches back out. Knowing her stubborness lol, it's unlikely. And the more time marches on, she probably just thinks of me as some weird BDSM dude she dealt with.

Ah well. Maybe she's some weird submissive girl I dealt with? No ... my brain doesn't work like that. She will never be "just" that to me no matter how she sees me.

Calm again. Hopefully it sticks.

#catharsis #self love #self care

[hexfane]

oh shit i forgot tumblr is the PLACE to BE for oversharing. if you see this but dont care no you dont

absolutely insane rabid chomping at the bit madness in part because *hypo*manic episode and in part because genuine life changes nd trying to unlearn bad habits :~[

i am so fucking sick of holding myself back but i am such a dumb kicked puppy for no reason

i eternally am waiting for the shoe to drop. it always feels like im one second away from getting my heart ripped out of my chest and every day i feel so much shame when i Literally Didnt Do Anything. believe me if i had anything to actually gaf about i wouldn't be willingly expressing shit. but im always like Theyre Going To Get Me. who queen!! or Theyre Going To Find Out. find out what queen!!

why am i ashamed of being happy. why am i ashamed of being myself and doing things i enjoy.

why do i have fucking catholic guilt when i wasnt even raised religious lmao

and especially with big ol neon letters why am i ashamed of the fact i want to be known and cared about? ive internalized the fact im undeserving of care and that im doomed to never have it i dont even start and any attempts to even find piece in the segments of reality i set aside for myself makes me feel like im fucking evil. i get so mad at myself for expressing genuine emotion like actually fucking angry like im doing something wrong and people are going to hate me.

i also have a nebulous counter in my head that decides when i have been Too Free and that Now Everyone Will Hate You. Why Did You Do That? You Have Fucked Up. and i only know when i reach that point after ive done it, and it can be triggered by something as simple as liking a post or literally done absolutely nothing

just kidding i know why! it is the neurodivergence. i feel like the way my brain works makes me exist in a manner inherently incongruent from other people and that i am like a fucking creep for even trying to relate to other people, like i am a subhuman for the way i think and feel and live

i left my job recently bc of dumb petty teenage drama that made me have a massive meltdown at my Grown Ass Age and i think that also really fucked my shit up even further because im like borderline agoraphobic about talking to other people now? or being in situations socially that arent fully normalized to me? like im pushing through it and doing New Things TM but it is pretty taxing mentally and i think im on the butt end of that where now im just kinda empty feeling

also if you read this and are psychoanalyzing me yes i already know i suffer from paranoia/delusion issues and thats a big part of my shit ik. i dont do anything to exacerbate any kind of psychosis because for as much as i meme about it i am a pretty fucking conservative smoker and drinker. i eat my wheaties and shit, body has no reason to make me so crazy, and yet.

just know if i ever talk to you or interact with you in any way i have already accepted the fact that me doing that will make you think less of me just by default and fussed over it internally already before making the decision.

did you enjoy the spectacle, if u got down here? dw i dont mean that in a mean accusatory way i like reading these too, i'm nosey. thanks for listening

[tadsweep]

Oh, so it does talk.

And who the FUCK do you think you are? You speak of warmth and cold like it means anything to you. You speak of humanity as if it means anything to you. It doesn’t. If you were thrust into the inferno, you wouldn’t know how to cope either. If you were stripped of your blissful greys, you’d close your eyes to the light just like you close them to the truth.

All I wanted was to win. Where is the sin in that? You speak of my destruction like I kicked the stool out from under me when it was yanked, as if I didn’t claw and kick and grab onto anything I could.

You know what’s worse than being stupid? Being a hypocrite. You were born into the world by a maker, you do not know joy so you do not know the loss of it. You are a miserable little mindless creature (who seems to have finally found its tongue ? talk about claiming to be pitiful) and you DID kill me simply because you are everything I am not, your sad little squealing about your precious creator and their lie of peace drove me mad. Extending my friendship didn’t make you see the truth, and now you spew this holier than thou bullshit in my face. My corpse. You killed me. You and so many other people, but you… You grieve either my loss or my existence or my wretched ghost but it doesn’t matter. All I wanted was to win. Tad did not, so you did not either. Tad killed me. You killed me.

you speak of this as if you are in the right.

all you wanted was to win. isn't that right? that's all you ever wanted.

a rather flimsy excuse, if you ask me.

a yearn for victory is such a pathetic, human thing to have. you as a species don't know what to do with your useless, meaningless lives, so you duke it out against each other to attempt to find a purpose. a natural propensity to prove thay you're inherently better, that you as a being are simply superior to everyone else is all you're ever good for, it seems.

but does this remove the fact that all living and loving beings are on this earth for nothing but to fuck and die? does this truly make you believe that the tacit truth of you being utterly devoid of purpose is nothing but a nihilistic thought that should be simply pushed aside?

i was created with a purpose, and that was to serve tad. is it small? yes. is it pathetic? yes. but at least i know what im here for. at least i exist with certainty that yes, i'm doing everything right. i'm acting exactly as i am meant to act.

i may have killed you, but you deserved it. you were selfish, greedy, and abhorrantly human.

you're correct. humanity means nothing to me. it sparks nothing but a faraway revulsion and long before buried ire that I've tried so hard to suppress, but you? you make me sick. you extended a hand in the name of friendship and you twisted my arm and sank your claws deep within me and you whispered "this is what love is." you tried to cut the strings of a marionette that will fall apart without them and that is nothing short of repulsive.

organics are put onto this earth so fleetingly. you're here one moment, and you're gone the next. you were bound to die anyway. if anything, i saved you.

[impose-rose]

*HUGE RANT*

{This is just going to be word vomit and emotional dumping I'm so sorry}

I actually just want to stop existing. Like, I’m NOT doing okay. I’m working, living on my own, driving, (trying to) pursue my photography and music hobby... but the truth is... I don’t really know what I’m doing here... I have no motivation to work....I’m fucking broke as shit right now but I can’t stop myself from spending money...

I was supposed to do a photoshoot with a friend who wanted portraits done today but haven't heard anything from them all day, I had a panic attack while just scoping out the spots for the photoshoot and had to leave the spot and then I kept getting dizzy so I broke down and ate something so now my fast is ruined....

Everything just feels so fucked right now and I don’t see any reason for anything... I’m changing my motivation for my ED relapse from just losing weight for the sake of being skinny to looking as sick as I feel in my head because nobody takes me seriously....

I’m sick of being the friend that everyone pushes aside for friends that are more fun/skinnier/prettier.... I’m not a party girl or an extrovert... so I guess that means I’m not as fun to be around... I don’t do drugs besides weed and occasional nicotine... I’m Demisexual and its so damn hard to date/see people when they don't understand that ace is a spectrum... It’s also really hard to meet girls to date, all I get are creepy men thirsting over the idea of me being their “big titty goth gf”...

At this point, I’m not doing this to be prettier or skinnier, I’m doing this so people will actually see and beleive the pain I’m in, right now I keep getting compliments on losing weight, which does feel wonderful for the ego but I want it to turn into concern about how underweight I am. I think I’ll set a new UGW of something under 100lbs ... I just want this all to stop...

#tw ana thoughts #not pr0 just for myself #tw ed relapse #tw ed vent #pro 4na #tw ed rant #ana dairy #anxitey #body ch3ck #bonespr0 #depressing post #fuck my liiiiife #i just wanna disappear #an0rexic

[bo0zey]

I hope you're doing ok, I only read about what happened at riot fest through someone who saw some of the people who fainted and had to be taken out, but to be in the situation that you were is so terrifying. I really wish I could whisk you to another concert of theirs, it breaks my heart that arseholes who have no regard to others' wellbeing ruined your experience. (And reading your post about how gerard was trying to control the crowd, I couldn't stop thinking about how disturbing it must have been to watch people fainting left and right and having to be surfed out of the crowd, and people still continuing to push.)

i'm okay!<3 i went home and hit the Hay afterwards lol. my abdominal cavity was still rlly sore tho lol like i couldn't eat my burrito once i got home :( which i shouldve expected cuz i couldnt even drink water without sharp stabbing pangs from my diaphragm n intestines still on bad terms with each other skjskjng . but i was better the next day :) . and i was so sad for the band you're 100% correct i can't imagine what they must've been thinking up there having to perform while so many people were getting hurt :/ . like gerard handled everything so well, better than the event organizers ffs, and i was so mad because then the tabloids were released ranking the 13 most "dangerous bands/crowds" at riot fest & MCR was right up there and it's like!!!!!! the band was doing everything they could to keep the crowd safe, pausing between every damn song, literally ZERO bantering from gee in between because he was too busy counting the steps he wanted the crowd to take back.

that's why i'm still kinda annoyed abt me almost fainting bc i know it's not my fault but i still feel so stupid n weak bc i feel like everyone thinks it's my fault too and i 'couldn't hang' but i was literally being crushed from all four sides of my body and my nose was in this stinky bitch's armpit like:((( it's not fair. and like i tried not to let the fact that i was almost barrier, ~1hr away from seeing the band whose music was literally the only thing i listened to from 12-16yrs old when my mom was sick and dying and i deadass had nothing left that resonated with me aside from mcr & the boys' side projects for 4 years straight. it sounds corny as fuck but it honestly felt like a dream come true to be able to see them live and so up close like??

but i'm not gonna lie i couldn't stay positive lol. i was in a fog and dissociated for their entire set. n like the fact that i was 1000000s of feet away from my original spot so i couldn't even see them on stage, just the big screen, it just made the dissociation worse because everything had already looked and felt unreal and now mcr felt unreal too but like in the worst way possible, like they actually WERE NOT real and i was watching a youtube video at home lol. and i've literally never tried so hard in my LIFE to re-ground myself because i wanted to be at least somewhat present for this once in a lifetime chance u know?? so i tried singing along but i couldn't because it made the shooting pains so much worse. then i tried just mouthing the words but the pain kept getting worse and i literally had to leave during the middle of TKFY because i was getting nauseous and lightheaded again. aside from the pain i truly couldn't feel anything while watching them perform i was just so numb from everything and i couldn't stop crying because i deadass felt zero happiness, and that realization made me cry more because they weren't even happy tears, they weren't the ones i'd expected to cry. it was honestly one of the worst feelings i've ever experienced, feeling nothing, just numb as fuck inside despite being live and present at the concert of the band that had at one point made me feel everything, every emotion, tenfold all at once. and there i was 10 years later, feeling nothing. tis a veerrrryyyyyy hard pill for me to swallow lol n im still tryna choke it down. i haven't been able to listen to any mcr songs since bc i'm afraid i'm going to experience the same empty feelings again orrrrr worse break down and cry like a little bitch n feel sorry for myself bc i was so.close. to having this 1 thing i always wanted but never thought i'd be able to have and then *poof* IT'S GONE. like i can't have shit in this world lol i jsut wanted to give my inner child some peace and remember happier days before mom was gone and what happpens instead??? god yanks mcr away from her too lmaoooo. it's like funny and ironic tbh idk. and then ofc for their last song gerard played cancer and i was 10000000000000 of feet away in pain while my stepmom tried 2 find me water n im just sobbing next to some trashcans bc suddenly im 12 years old realizing i just lost the last piece of my childhood n mcr can't soothe me anymore and mom isn't there either and now i truly have nothing left inside or outside myself that makes me happy:-). like i don't think i've EVER even cried to cancer bc i didnt think it was /that/ sad and my mom literally died of cancer and i still never cried??? But idk that was another weird sad thing that jabbed the knife in deeper lol.

but also ik why gee played it, they were supposed to close with TKFY but played cancer bc it's their slowest 'saddest' song which would hopefully make everyone chill the fuck out & leave without trampling each other. which, AGAIN, gerard is literally an amazing fucking frontman for once AGAIN going out of his way to try and mellow ppl out n keep everyone safe aND FOR TABLOIDS TO ATTACK THEM calling them the most dangerous band like!!!!!!!! it literally wasn't their fault ppl are just fucking idiots and don't understand BASIC PHYSICS/HUMAN ANTOMY DKDFNSKD. ngl the only reason i'm not wrathful abt the article is bc it's validating 2 me n my experience that Yes that crowd was actualyl fucking awful and what happened to me was OUT of my control n therefore it wasnt>:(my>:(fault>:(((

#anon i am so sorry for leaving what shouldve been a diary entry in my own personal journal at home in the answer to ur ask #i just have a lot of feelings i guess and i feel like no 1 understands how sad i am and it wasnt my fault ok like im literally #going into emergency nursing i THINK i know what a fuckign crush injury is and how the human anatomy works like !!!!!! #i've been to GA concerts with 0 food in my stomach 0 water 0 sleep and hella alcohol and I WAS FINE #i barely even drank at riot fest #also i remained dissociated until i got home n went to bed and it was probably one of the worst episodes i was so out of body out of touch #i think every1 who wants 2 invalidate me should come 2 my house and let me crush their abdominal organs and lungs :) come see for urself!!! #im not even gonna get into how upset i am w myself for feeling alienated from mcr #maybe i sound dramatic idk but they meant Everything to me so it was jsut so devstating to feel nothing from them anymore #riot fest #ask #ramblings

[thementalhealthdisaster]

I feel lonely and overwhelmed.

Why is life so hard for me? Eating and exercise and showers and laundry and dishes and cleaning and more and more and more.

I can't handle the simple stuff. And I feel so helpless in the face of it.

I don't know how people do this. I know so many autistic people with jobs and who are managing chores and hygiene. Why am I not able to?

And I know, everyone is different. I know. But I feel like I'm drowning rn and I don't know how to fix it. Because yeah, I've been living not doing these things until I am forced to or I get the motivation. But that has consequences. And I can't actually handle those either.

I can't handle not being able to wear most of my clothes because they're in the wash. I can't handle the taste of blood in my mouth from my bleeding gums every day. I can't handle the idea of my teeth being irreversibly damaged because I can't brush my teeth more than a handful of times a month. I can't handle people thinking I smell bad. I can't handle my skin feeling dirty or my sheets or clothes. I can't handle too much mess building up. I can't handle bugs. I can't handle being so hungry I'm shaking and sweaty. I can't handle this shit! But I also can't do the things to prevent them. And it makes life fucking torture.

I just don't want to do this anymore.

I'm sick of this. I'm sick of feeling like a failure of a person. I'm sick of feeling guilty for how my failures impact others while they make my private personal life hell. I'm sick of feeling like no matter where I turn, I'm faced with pain and anxiety.

I've been getting by. Really well too. I've been smiling through it and distracting myself and pushing aside my guilt and anxiety and pain. I've been trying So Hard.

But it's not enough. It's never enough. I always reach a point where I can't deny it anymore and I'm overcome.

I just want quiet. And not to feel anything anymore. Physical and emotional. I want nothingness.

#sui tw #tw suicide #suicidal tw #its the autism im afraid #found out im diagnosed level one too so support is further out of reach

[honking-up-a-storm]

7/5/23

Oh it's even more dead than it was Monday, I guess everyone is all partied out. I'm not cuz I didn't do shit for the 4th. Though right now I feel a bit nauseous cuz I haven't eaten yet today. Last night was bad cuz of my period but I had that sick gut feeling that something bad was happening. Nothing came of it that I'm aware of, but it's been months since I felt it. So it was kinda startling. I know I blabbed on about how I'm not into other worldly shit, but IDK, my guy usually isn't wrong with that exact feeling of pure dread. It's been a few months since we've seen (Friend), rationally I know he's fine but that fight was absolutely brutal. If we had both just kept our cool [Friend] wouldn't have had to do what he did. It's scary watching someone fall like that. Don't fucking make that joke about the situation, oh my god why would I think that? Probably because it is a little funny with context. Let's just say that [friend] is good at pushing people out of his space like that. At least I made that joke now and not the minute after like {friend} did. Though she was being completely genuine saying it was a " Mario 64 moment" and it's funny bc she wasn't wrong tbh. Aside from my regulars who said that they'd be here today I really don't think I'm gonna have anyone today. Which is good cuz I don't feel good. Am I scared? I've been dreading seeing the security guard again, he left me alone Monday but I still have the whole summer ahead of me. I can't let my paranoia get the better of me I have to get mad and stay mad and stand up for myself. I mean that's what I told myself the last time I needed to confront someone who could physically harm me, and then I just froze. I always freeze. It's instinctual and it's dangerous. It's not logical for my body to think if I just stay still and stay quiet nothing bad will happen to me. Off topic but I'm wondering if I'm autistic again. And I feel bad cuz before when I was wondering out loud it probably sounded like I didn't want it/not open to the idea of having it/ thought it was bad/ ect when really I was just worried that if I was wrong id be invading that space on accident. But there's a lot of things about myself I'm cross examining with other autistic people that are making me think so. I know I'm feeling a hell of a lot better now that I've stopped masking a lot of things (though yelling in the middle of the city while vocal stimming might've been too much that one time) Paul Mccartney what the fuck are you doing here? Man it's only been an hour. Don't know why I'm surprised this usually only takes one hour. The lot is kinda filling up now. I should put my sunscreen on. Anyways right, Autism. Lots of things I did when I was younger kinda point to it; even though I was checked twice I don't think either count. The first one was in the 2-3rd grade and they were mainly focused on me just not falling behind, they didn't care about behavioral things bc I was a kid they thought I'd grow out of it. The other was primarily to get my ADHD diagnosis, he wasn't looking for Autism. So yes I fully believe I should get re-tested, no stupid online quizzes, I need an actual doctor who preferably has autism themselves to help me find out. I need to make a list of traits I've noticed so I can remember what to tell them.

Notes: Can people stop leaving thier cars running near me? It's already hot as shit today.

- I wanna steal that pretty green car over there, it would be easy the windows are down. It's probably a standard tho.

- Punch buggy dreams slightly restored, second time around it's easy to drive.

#thoughts #autistic? #am i autistic? #Would not mind outside input